


When Cold Winds Rise

by LordStark5



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: #Lemongate, B plus A equals J, Blackfish doesn't pointlessly die, Bloodraven is evil, Characters expressing grief, Davos not forgetting about his son, Direwolves not cut for CGI Budget, Euron Greyjoy is His Own Warning, No Season 1 Quotings, People not forgetting about Rickon, Probably some tags I'm missing, R Plus L Equals D, Sansa has a son by Ramsay, Smalljon didn't betray the Starks, Stannis Baratheon Lives, Trying to make Davos and Brienne Actual Characters, Trying to make Seasons 7 & 8 good
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26411479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordStark5/pseuds/LordStark5
Summary: Game of Thrones will sadly be remembered as one of the greatest let downs in TV history. So naturally I decided to try and make the last two seasons of the show actually good, starting with it being Stannis being the one to show up and save the day at the Battle of the Bastards, and following the rabbit hole that comes from it.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Roslin Frey/Edmure Tully
Comments: 38
Kudos: 46





	1. Sansa I

Sansa

When Sansa awoke, she felt relieved. The monster she had let grow in her for months was finally gone. She wanted to hate the monster just as she had wanted to hate the other one, yet when it had been placed in her arms, she felt naught but love for it. He lacked his father's pale eyes and his hair was only slightly more red than her own. She could see scarce a trace of Ramsay in him.

A fortnight had passed since they retook the castle, and since then all the Lords of the North had come to Winterfell to pledge fealty.

She saw a figure standing near the door in her chambers. The person had blond hair, she noted, though her face was quite ugly. "Brienne?" Sansa asked.

"My lady, it is good to see you awake." The taller woman said. "I arrived earlier this morning. I was able to win your uncles to your cause, and they were able to bring six hundred swords North for you, though you already have reconquered Winterfell."

"Thank you Brienne." Said Sansa.

Despite reconquering the castle, Sansa felt empty, for it had come at the cost of Rickon. They had won over the Wildlings, and the Hill Clansmen, and reconquered Deepwood Motte, which won them Houses Glover, Mormont, Cerwyn, Umber and Hornwood, before they marched on Winterfell. Jon had tried to leave Sansa behind at

Deepwood, but Sansa had insisted that she go with, since it might allow them to manipulate Ramsay.

Father, mother, Robb, Bran, Rickon, even Arya were all now gone, and all that was left of the House Stark was her and Jon.

A short time later, Jon entered.

"Sansa, the king is requesting your presence." He told her.

Sansa began to get up. She still felt terribly sore from giving birth to Rodrick, which made it a struggle, though with some aid from Jon she was able to stand up, and was even able to walk under her own power.

Jon slowly led her what was once their father's solar. There, they found Stannis, seated with Ser Davos Seaworth. Sansa sat herself down next to Jon.

"Lady Sansa, thank you for joining us." The King greated her.

"Pray tell, what have you invited me here for your grace?" Sansa asked him.

"Well, I'm afraid we have much to discuss. For one, there is the matter of you and your sons."

"What of them?" Surely he did not mean to kill Rodrick.

"He will be confirmed as Lord of the Dreadfort, and one day shall rule their, with all accompanying lands, titles and incomes. However, I do not mean for a son of Ramsay Snow to rule over Winterfell. I mean to have you remarry." Stannis said.

That did not surprise Sansa. She was the Lady of Winterfell, of course she would have to remarry, no doubt to some loyal knight of his, who he deemed worthy of having as Lord of Winterfell.

"To whom?" Sansa asked.

Sansa noticed that Jon was looking at her queerly, and nothing could have prepared her for the surprise of what she was told next.

"To him." Stannis said pointing at Jon.

Sansa's mind began to race with thoughts as soon as she heard it. But most of all, she wondered why, though luckily, she was told.

"Lord Howland Reed arrived not two days past. He informed Jon that he was in fact the son of your uncle Brandon, and the Lady Ashara Dayne. His grace has legitimized him to make him the heir to Winterfell, though he will marry you, to make your claims one."

She looked to Jon. After all this time, he hadn't even been father's son. She found it hard to look upon him with a straight face. Jon looked at her uncomfortably in response. Sansa had never been the greatest sister to Jon when they were younger, yet now they were to spend the rest of their lives together as man and wife, though her first marriage had never taken hold, and her second had lasted a little over a year. Perhaps this time it would last and she might be able to find joy. She giggled at the thought of it, for it was much too silly to ever possibly be real.

And yet it was. Sansa barely paid attention to the rest of what was said. She heard that they would be married within the moon's turn in the same Godswood she had been married to Ramsay in, but hardly any of the rest.

Jon and Stannis were busy speaking of Karhold when Sansa took her leave.

She returned to her chambers, and the nurse gave Sansa her monster.


	2. Brienne I

Brienne

All around her, Brienne could see the flaming stag that Stannis had taken for his sigil.

She had failed Renly when he didn't kill Stannis, and now had failed Sansa when she hadn't been able to bring her uncles to join her in the fight against the Boltons. What did that leave her as?

She was in the Winterfell courtyard, training with Podrick. He was certainly better than what he was when she began to train with him, perhaps he might even one day be able to be a knight. As the two dueled, Brienne did not fail to notice the rest of the courtyard watching her. Only Ser Hyle was not watching her because they had never seen someone like her fighting before.

It was not long before Brienne began to overpower Podrick and drove him back, until eventually she disarmed him, resulting in him yielding.

Behind her, she could see a man was standing behind her. Emblazoned on his surcoat was a pig that was flying. This was Ser Godry, the Giant Slayer she knew.

"My lady, his grace would like to speak with you." The man was clearly not pleased to have to address her like that, but she did as she was bid regardless.

She did as she was bid, and left the courtyard, off to find the King that she swore to kill. She knew he had taken up residence in the Great Keep.

Brienne could hear the stonemason's at work, constructing tombs for Lady Stark's sons, Robb and Rickon. Robb's bones had yet to be reclaimed but Rickon had died at Winterfell, and he would be buried as soon as they were finished constructing it.

On her way, she saw that Sansa's half brother was exiting the solar.

Stannis Baratheon sat in what once must have been the solar of Lord Eddard Stark, Sansa's father.

"Lady Brienne." He greeted her.

Brienne found herself unsure of what to address him as.

"Tell me, do you still wish to kill me?" He asked her.

Brienne looked at him. What little hair he had left was black as the hair Renly had, and his eyes were the same color blue. His face was gaunt and bony, from no doubt months of rationing food amongst his men who's only supply of food was the food they intercepted from the Dreadfort, the fish of Long Lake, dead horses and whatever little else they could hunt.

"Could I?" Brienne asked.

"No," Stannis admitted. "My knights would stop you if you tried, though I would not."

Brienne though long and hard. Stannis had saved Lady Sansa at the Battle, she thought. "You reminded me of my duty, and for that I thank you." She finally said.

"Good, I encourage you to keep doing your duty." Stannis said to her.

And with that, Brienne knew that she was dismissed. She left the chambers, and went and found Lady Sansa in her chambers. Her brother had let her take the chambers of their father, and her mother after they retook the castle. She gently knocked on the door.

"Come in," she heard Sansa's voice weakly call.

Brienne stepped inside. Sansa was sitting up in her bed, giving suck to her babe, Rodrick.

She noticed that there were tears coming from Sansa's eyes. "My lady, is something amiss?" She asked.

With one hand still holding the babe to her breast, she tried to wipe away some of her tears with her other.

"Robb is dead, Rickon is dead, Arya is dead, Bran is probably dead, and now Jon isn't even truly my brother," Sansa replied. "It turns out father lied about being Jon's true father and that he's the son of uncle Brandon and Lady Ashara Dayne, and now to make certain that a son of Ramsay doesn't one day rule Winterfell, I am to marry him."

Brienne was surprised by that. She had always thought Lord Eddard to be one of the truest men in Westeros, yet he had lied about something like the true father of the boy he claimed as his own bastard? And now Stannis meant to force Sansa to remarry? Perhaps she should have killed him.

"My lady, I can speak to Stannis, and tell him that you do not wish to be wed or..." Brienne's voice began to fail her.

"No, don't speak to him. I know about what happened with Renly. Jon is all that I have left, Jon and Rodrik. I will wed him." Sansa said to her.

Rodrick began to squirm a little, and had let go, so Sansa tucked her breast back into her shift and held him higher against her chest.

Brienne felt a little perplexed at that.

"Is there anything else that I can do for you my lady?" She asked.

Sansa considered her for a moment. "I wish to rest for now." Sansa finally said to her.

Brienne turned and left.

She returned back to the courtyard she had been before she was summoned by Stannis, and began practicing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes:
> 
> First, a word on why Brienne didn't kill Stannis. We should consider Stannis's final words. "Go on, do your duty," is what he tells Brienne after she sentences him to die. Now, on first glance, this may seem like Stannis, the highly dutiful and honorable guy, just taking his fate as most would expect he would, but if you actually consider it, those are the perfect words to say to Brienne for two reasons.
> 
> 1\. Brienne's duty isn't to kill Stannis. Her duty is to Sansa. As it stands, Brienne's story feels really unsatisfying. She gets to both kill Stannis and save Sansa, meaning she didn't even truly make a choice, which is what it seemed like the show was going for. There's no human heart in conflict with itself here.
> 
> 2\. Brienne has no legal authority to execute anyone, let alone her liege. Brienne isn't lord or lady of anything, and isn't even a knight.
> 
> Fuck it, I added in Ser Hyle Hunt as one of Brienne's companions in the books. And yes, I'm throwing in the King's Men and the Queen's Men.
> 
> For the record, when I'm imagining Stannis speaking, I'm imagining it as Preston Jacob's voice when he reads Stannis's lines during his prepping for Winter series.
> 
> Also, a note on Stannis and the fact that it was him who saved the day. In this alternate universe, when the better half of his strength deserted him, they didn't actually desert, they were ordered away. He after his confrontation with Brienne, found himself back in this new camp where he and his men could lay a shadow siege to Winterfell.
> 
> Theon and Asha are at Winterfell in this AU. Asha was attacked before she could go home for the Kingsmoot at Deepwood Motte, and Theon never returned to the Iron Islands because there is no way in hell Theon, the most hated man in the North, would've ever possibly been able to hitch a ride back, or even get to a place where he could get to a ride without dying of hypothermia.
> 
> Edmyn is about 2 years old at this point. Edmure and Brynden were allowed to sail North from Seagard, around Cape Kraken, and then upriver to Torrhen's Square, which they took from the Ironborn. Jaime also allowed them to take Roslin and Edmyn with them.
> 
> This chapter again is definitely short, much shorter than I would like, but like I mentioned in my last chapter, these chapters are going to be a bit shorter since for the nonce since we have Jon, Brienne, Sansa, Davos, Theon, and Asha all in the same place at the same time.
> 
> Thank you for reading this far, please comment to let me know how you feel.
> 
> A quick update, no I still do not own ASOIAF


	3. Sansa II

Sansa

The day of her wedding had arrived.

Sansa stood naked in her chambers, as she looked over herself. The weight she had gained while she was with child had yet to go away, and looking over her stomach, she saw the stretch marks were still there. Her legs still felt a little sore as well. How could Jon ever possibly want me, Sansa asked herself. But Jon probably didn't, Sansa also knew, and he was only doing his duty in wedding her.

She bathed herself and dressed herself before the wedding. She felt sad, as now this would be the third wedding where none of her kin where there, save Jon, who was to wed her, and mother's brother and uncle, but Sansa hardly knew them anyways. It was to be her Uncle Edmure who would give her to Jon, she had been told.

Perhaps this one would work out better than the last two, she hoped, yet she had already heard rumors of war to both the North and the South, and soon men would be marching off to war again.

The last thing Sansa put on while dressing was her maiden's cloak. She was no maiden anymore, and she was marrying her cousin of the same house, yet she had one nonetheless. The cloak she wore bore the trout of Tully, in honor of her mother, while Jon would no doubt cloak her in a cloak that had a wolf on it.

They were to be wed both in the customs of the Old Gods, and R'hollor, she had heard the other god called. It had taken Jon's insistence for them to be wed in the customs of the Old Gods as well, but now here they were.

At some point, she heard a knock on her door, and when she opened it, she found it was her Uncle, who had come to take her. "My lady," he greeted her.

"Uncle," she replied. "It is time I judge?"

"Yes, it is." Her uncle said, though he looked a little sad. No doubt because the last wedding he had been to was his own, the one where the Freys killed Robb, and mother, and Robb's wife and unborn child that Sansa never knew he had, while they took Uncle Edmure hostage.

She took her uncle's outstretched arm, and together they walked into the Godswood. This would be the quicker of the two ceremonies Sansa knew, and when they made it to the Godswood, before the Heart Tree, Sansa, Uncle Edmure and Jon exchanged a few words, before Jon took of her cloak, and replaced it with the one he held in his arms, and they prayed together for a bit before they left.

The second ceremony took place in the courtyard for want of another formal place to have it. Sansa was once more returned to the protection of her Uncle, though she didn't have to change her cloak this time. She stood by her uncle waiting outside the ceremony while the prayers were said.

"R'hllor," sang the red woman, her arms raised, "you are the light in our eyes, the fire in our hearts, the heat in our loins. Yours is the sun that warms our days, yours the stars that guard us in the dark of night."

"All praise R'hllor, the Lord of Light," some of the guests in attendance echoed. Few she noted were Northerners, most were southerners who had come north with Stannis.

"The night is dark and filled with terrors," the Red woman said. "Alone we are born and alone we die, but as we walk through this black vale we draw strength from one another, and from you, our lord. Two come forth today to join their lives, so they may face this world's darkness together. Fill their hearts with fire, my lord, so they may walk your shining path hand in hand forever."

"Lord of Light, protect us," cried some of the guests in response.

Her uncle began to take her forth to the ditch that Lady Melisandre spoke from across of. They stopped when she stood next to Jon. Before them inside the ditch fires burned, for the ceremony.

The red woman raised her hands, and the ditchfire leapt upward toward her fingers. A swirl of sparks rose and Sansa could feel the heat emitted by the flames. "Oh, Lord of Light, we thank you," she sang to the hungry flames. "We thank you for brave Stannis, by your grace our king. Guide him and defend him, R'hllor. Protect him from the treacheries of evil men and grant him strength to smite the servants of the dark."

Some others began to say prayers to R'hollor before finally, Lady Melisandre spoke again. "Let them come forth, who would be joined."

Sansa felt her tummy flutter a little at that.

Just like when they were wed before the Old Gods, who gave her and who claimed her were asked.

"Jon," asked Melisandre, "will you share your fire with Sansa, and warm her when the night is dark and full of terrors?"

"Yes," Jon replied quickly.

"Sansa, do you swear to share your fire with Jon, and warm him when the night is dark and full of terrors?" The red woman asked her.

She wanted to think of something clever to say, but she couldn't, and instead, the only words that came out were, "I do."

Melisandre's eyes shone as bright as the ruby at her throat. "Then come to me and be as one." As she beckoned, a wall of flames roared upward. Sansa let go of her uncle's arm, and took Jon's instead, and together they leapt across the ditch.

Thankfully, the flames didn't catch on either of their clothes, and they both landed on their feet when they had crossed to the other side.

"Two went into the flames." A gust of wind lifted the red woman's scarlet skirts till she pressed them down again. "One emerges." Her coppery hair danced about her head. "What fire joins, none may put asunder."

There were some who echoed the red woman, but at that point, it was done. She and Jon were wed. No longer where they half siblings, or cousins, now they were together as man and wife.

Now that they were done, they went to the Great Hall, where a small feast was being held in honor of the celebration. She and Jon did not speak a word to each other as they went, though they kept their arms together linked, and walked together. When they entered the great hall, some of the guests were already seated, particularly the Northmen, who had chosen not to attend their joining in the customs of the red god.

They took their seats that befit a Lord and Lady of Winterfell, and not long after, the food was served. The food had been brought from White Harbor, for they had almost no food stores at Winterfell, after several harvests had come and gone without anyone to collect them, and with the previous food stores having been destroyed.

Sansa didn't want to eat, but Jon reminded her that she wasn't just responsible for feeding herself, but had Rodrik to feed as well, and so she forced herself to eat.

The marriage customs of the red god did not have a bedding ceremony, Sansa had heard, though she figured that they might still demand one anyways since they were also wed in the customs of the Old Gods.

To their left, Stannis sat, with his Onion Knight, and some of the other King's Men who's names Sansa had still yet to remember, while to her right sat her uncles, and across from them sat some of the other Northern Lords and Wildlings.

Sansa hardly spoke to anyone during the feast, and instead listened to everything else around her. At one point, her uncle whispered to her that her mother, Lady Catelyn would be proud of her, while some others offered her congratulations on her marriage, but most ignored her.

She would've perhaps gone to dance, where it not for the fact that there were no singers playing for her to dance. So instead, she sat in silence. Jon sadly hadn't brought Ghost with him to the feast, for Ghost was much too big. After not having seen any of their direwolves for years since the Queen had ordered father kill Lady, she had found comfort in Ghost's company, even if he had been much larger that she could've expected.

Some time passed, before Sansa began to hear the calls for a bedding ceremony. After two weddings where she had managed to avoid the ordeal, Sansa wasn't lucky on the third. She felt herself be grabbed out of her chair and hoisted into the air. The men had swarmed around her, and were now taking her to her chambers now, all the while removing pieces of clothing, until by the end she was completely naked, and when they finally got there, she was placed into the bed next to Jon. They had been making crude japes about her she knew, yet she had hardly paid attention.

The women who had swarmed Jon arrived moments after Sansa had been placed down, and he got into the bed next to her. Sansa lay bare on the bed next to him, not even moving to cover herself up for they had all already bore witness to her shame, and she waited for them to finally leave. Even when the doors to their chambers had been closed, Sansa could still hear them making bawdy remarks and lude suggestions about what they ought to do, and encouraging them on.

"Sansa." She heard Jon whisper next to her. "If you do not want to..." He said before his voice trailed off.

Sansa looked at him. Tyrion had given her the same choice she remembered. Yet then she had been but a girl, and now she was a woman grown, a widow, a mother and a wife. Jon was comely, Sansa thought to herself, certainly more than she remembered him being, and the new scars that marked him, made him look even a little more so.

He didn't quite look as much as he did like father now, with the scars, and the fact that he had grown a little taller than father was. He was thinner and more gaunt than father as well.

"No, we have to Jon, it's our duty." She told him, knowing that if she told him it was fine he was like to protest, before she rolled on top of him and planted a kiss on his mouth. After so long of being tormented by the men around her, after being married to a hideous dwarf, and a terrible monster, it felt a blessing to finally be with Jon.

She spread her legs around Jon's, and with her right hand began to guide Jon's manhood into her. It felt good as it entered her, and Sansa felt a rush of pleasure coming from her loins. They began to find a rhythm of movement with their thrusts, each of which left Sansa wanting to call out. The feelings of pleasure kept building inside of her until finally, she felt Jon spent his seed inside of her, yet she felt that she hadn't reached her climax yet, and so she remained on him. She continued her thrusts on him, until this time when they shared their climax together.

After that, she rolled off of him. She felt his seed still inside her cunt, as she lay back panting a little. She lay there for a little, before she moved to adjust the furs on the bed, and covered both Jon and herself. She noted the look of guilt on Jon's face, and so she slid back next to him, and curled up in his arms as well.

When she did, Jon mussed her hair like he used to with Arya, with a sad smile on his face. "Tell me Sansa, what is it that you want?" He asked her.

"I want us to make a son tonight, like mother and father did on their wedding night. We could name him for one of the brothers we lost, or father. I want us to stay together. And I want you, Jon." She told him before placing a kiss on his cheek. Jon looked sad at that as well, and didn't respond. She knew she wouldn't get an answer from him if she asked the same question so she didn't.

Instead, she closed her eyes, and fell asleep in his embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes:
> 
> Hey (Haigh?), I finally got this out, yay me!
> 
> Part of why this story takes so long for me to update is that I don't really have a clear vision yet for where I'm headed, and just have bits and pieces of changes that I'm working with and want to see. This story is meant to be a fix it for Seasons 7 & 8, and so I'm still trying to figure out how I can still end in an at least somewhat similar way to how the show did. I will work on getting a much more properly done outline in the near future, but for now I've been writing like I do with my other fics where I write as a go.
> 
> I think I might have messed up in the previous two chapters by having Sansa's monster's name spelled Rodrick. It's Rodrik.
> 
> As I stated, book descriptions, names and ages are being used, though most of the plot to this point has been taken from the show. So far, the only things that I have taken strictly from the books in regards to cannon is in Jon's conquest of sorts with the North, the Manderly fleet's construction, and Ser Hyle Hunt. Even Tycho being there is still somewhat in line with the show, since Stannis did take out a loan with the Iron Bank back in Season 4.
> 
> I did have to pull a lot of the ritual from the books though, and a lot of the dialogue is copied and pasted for the ceremony.
> 
> I'm not entirely sure when next chapter will be out, however I think it will most likely be from Jon's POV.
> 
> No, Jon is not an oral sex god either, that would just be ridiculous. Wait, that's cannon? Yeah, no, I'm still not doing it.
> 
> Hey, so I've actually been doing songs that go with these chapters and the song for this chapter is To The End by MCR. I'm kidding, I don't actually do those, but this song was somewhat stuck in my head as I was writing this.
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and feel free to keep them coming. All feedback is appreciated.
> 
> No, I don't own ASOIAF, thanks for asking.


	4. Jon I

Jon

Jon awoke with Sansa next to him, still sleeping. They lay bare together under their furs, and Jon could feel the warmth of Sansa.

Yet for a moment, he saw Lady Catelyn laying next to him, and a wave of guilt washed over him. He couldn't help but wonder what she would think now, seeing him having wed her daughter, waking in the chambers where she had slept with father, or the man he had always thought his father, ruling his father's castle as lord with his name.

Winterfell should be Robb's though, Jon thought sadly. He realized that Robb had never been able to sleep in these chambers as lord, nor as Rickon, as they both should've. He wondered if Bran was still alive, as Sam had told him, and where he could be now.

He planted a kiss on Sansa's forehead before he got up and began to dress himself. Someone had brought his things from his own chambers to this one last night he noted. Jon fastened his sword belt with Longclaw in it, another thing that rightfully belonged to someone else, before he stepped out, glancing back at Sansa one last time while doing so.

It was cold outside of their chambers. The heating system of the hot springs still wasn't working properly, and so men were working to address it. There also were problems with the poor reconstruction work the Boltons had done on the castle. One of their stables that didn't hold any horses had collapsed two days past, and the Great Hall had come dangerously close after they had first retaken the castle.

Jon broke his fast in the Great Hall on some eggs and bacon, before he decided to go to the Crypts. Even though Jon had not lived in Winterfell for years, finding the Crypts had come easily enough to him, and now he made it a point to visit every day.

It was cold as always down in the crypts, like even before the castle had been taken by the Boltons. Jon went down with nothing but a torch and the items on his person.

The most recently made statues were the ones that Jon always went to. He found Rickon and Robb's the two most recent. Rickon's bared enough resemblance to how he had looked in life, though whoever made Robb's must have thought Robb looked more like him or Lord Eddard. He prayed that they may find Robb's bones at least so that he may be laid to rest, though Jon was hardly holding his breath. Lord Eddard's bones still remained lost to them as well though. The last statue that Jon went to be close to was that of his father, Brandon. Howland Reed had not supplied many details on his father's relationship with Lady Ashara, save for Lady Ashara having paid visits to him while he was in the Black Cells. Jon wondered if his father had even known that he had conceived a child down there, or what he would think if he could see Jon now.

He paid each one of them some time, before his torch had began to die down, and he left the crypts.

When he returned to the surface of Winterfell, he was quickly found by some of Stannis's men.

"My lord, his grace requests your presence, he has urgent need of you." One of them told him.

Jon followed the three men as they took him to the make shift solar the king had made in the guest houses near his chambers.

When Jon arrived, he noted that King Stannis was there, with Lady Melisandre, Ser Davos, Ser Richard, Ser Justin, Sansa's uncles, some of the other Northern Lords and Stannis's lords from the south, Maester Wolkan who had and most queerly the Braavosi Banker who had arrived the day before.

Jon quickly took his seat next to Ser Davos and the Smalljon for the council. One or two more entered the solar after him, but after that, they began.

"My lords, I have received urgent news from the South. The Mad King's daughter, Daenerys Targaryen, is said to have taken her father's crown and is coming to Westeros soon with a great army and three dragons at her back. And closer still, we have word from King's Landing that the Great Sept of Baelor was blown up with Wildfire, killing the High Septon and several members of House Tyrell and Lannister." The Maester said. "King Tommen is said to have thrown himself from his tower when he saw the flames and realized his lady wife must have been killed. Your grace, you are by rights the rightful king, though your brother's widow the Queen Cersei has named herself Queen Regnant instead. And of late chaos has sprung up at the Twins in the wake of Lord Walder's murder."

"The boy king is dead. The realm is well rid of such an abomination, but now they have no choice but to accept you as their king your grace." Ser Richard Horpe said at once.

"Aye, save for the dragon queen to the East." The King put in.

"Her grace, queen Selyse is dead, mayhaps an arrangement could be made?" Ser Justin Massey offered.

Jon had no doubt the king was taken aback by the suggestion, though his face showed no signs of it. Everyone else though was a little shocked by the suggestion.

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment, before Lord Wyman Manderly pitched in. "Your grace, you still hold Dragonstone do you not?"

"It is still held by my men, correct." The King replied.

"I have ships that can sail men south to go secure the castle, and allow for perhaps another attack on King's Landing so that we may take it once and for all." He offered.

"For the nonce we lack the men to make such an assault. We will need more men to make such a strike. Ser Justin, you will go to Essos to hire sellswords. Ser Davos, you will be in command of the ships going to Dragonstone, to secure the castle and begin mining Dragonglass to bring here, which we will have need of soon." Stannis said.

"Your grace, we have more news, from the south. It is said that Walder Frey and two of his sons were recently slain. In the wake of this, the Twins and the Riverlands as a whole have fallen into chaos." Lord Edmure said.

Stannis studied him carefully. "And you think you are like to be able to restore yourself to your seat of Riverrun, and rally them to my banner?"

"Yes, your grace." Sansa's uncle replied.

"There is another way I can help you your grace. You mentioned the hiring of sellswords, however many and more lords are indebted to the Iron Bank of Braavos. Many could be rallied to your banner." The Braavosi banker, Tycho Nestoris offered.

Jon noticed Lord Wyman had a bit of a nervous look on his face, while Ser Richard Horpe scowled at the notion.

"You would have his grace buy the throne with cutthroats and unloyal lords?" Ser Richard asked.

"I would use the Iron Throne of Braavos to win his grace the throne, for those lords will remain a foe to you elsewise." The banker said.

"Fine." Stannis interrupted. "Tell me, my lord, what would you need?"

"I would go south to White Harbor with Ser Richard and Ser Davos when they go, though I am prepared to depart on the morrow, and from there I would need to go with my ships that I left there when I came to Winterfell to meet with you, your grace. I think I would start in the Vale, before I go south to Maidenpool, while there are already bankers on the Western coast who can be put to use there."

"Good." The King said. "I have also heard it that a garrison of Bolton men still hold the Dreadfort."

"We ought to tear the castle down, and salt the earth as a reminder to all who may be treacherous." One of King's Men offered.

"Truly." Another one echoed, as Jon listened silently. "Let us erase House Bolton from history."

"No. It has already been decided the holding will pass to Lady Sansa's babe." King Stannis put in.

"We could settle the Wildlings on Bolton lands." Ser Davos suggested, which was received by some frowns and some quiet murmurs of approval. The only one who made an explicit reaction was Stannis who nodded.

"That will be all, you are all dismissed now." Stannis told them. When Jon began to take his leave with everyone else, he saw Stannis bid him stay, and the lady Melisandre was also not exempt.

Stannis began to unroll a map, and place a rock on each of the corners to hold it down, before he began to place figures in various places.

"Your grace, why have you kept me here?" Jon asked cautiously.

"Because, you are one of the few who knows and cares for our true threat. The Throne is mine by rights, but there also must needs be a realm to rule over. We have fewer than ten thousand men here at Winterfell, and only a few hundred men remain at the Wall, so I must needs entertain Lord Edmure's hopes to win back the Riverlands though it will field mayhaps five thousand men. Soon, I will be returning to the Wall, to fight against the dead, while you will remain here at your seat of Winterfell as Warden of the North." The king said.

Jon nodded. He knew just as much as Stannis did they didn't have enough to stand against the dead.

"I have heard rumors of the Iron Born having crowned the younger brother of their last lord and false king, Balon, King. Well, we have their rightful lord here, and I mean to use him."

Jon was shocked at that.

"Your grace, surely... You cannot mean to... He betrayed my brother." He stammered out.

"Once, yes, but I have need of him." King Stannis said.

Lady Melisandre took a step forward. "I have seen him in the flames, leading men forth against our foe."

Jon wanted to protest that it meant nothing, but he realized the king wasn't asking for advice or permission, but simply telling Jon. Nothing he would say could make a difference.

"Fine."

They sat in silence for a moment after that, which was only broken when Stannis spoke again, "Thank you my lord, you are dismissed now."

And, so Jon took his leave.

After he left the keep, he found Ghost was padding along side him. "Who let you out? Jon asked the wolf, knowing he wouldn't get a reply, before he pet the great albino. Jon wandered the castle for a bit before he eventually found Sansa seated in the yard, watching some men practice, and took a seat next to her.

"Your uncles are going back south." Jon told her. "Word has it that Lord Walder Frey and two of his sons were murdered, so they are hoping they can rally the rest of the Lords of the Trident to our cause again."

Sansa frowned at that. "I thought they would stay here longer."

"We're to stay here, and hold Winterfell." Jon assured her.

"What else is happening?" Sansa asked.

"Ser Davos and Ser Richard are going south with the Braavosi banker, while the King himself will be going North to the Wall, while the Wildlings will be settling on Dreadfort lands." Jon replied.

"Soon it will just be us here it seems." Sansa said, before she planted a kiss on his cheek.

Jon put his arm around Sansa's shoulder protectively, and they sat together as they watched others sparring in the yard, in each other's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author Notes:**  
> It's been a bit since I last updated anything. Mostly due to a combination of writer's block, issues in my personal life, and various other minor stuff.  
> I don't really have any notes this time around, oh well.  
> I do not own ASOIAF


	5. Daenerys I

Daenerys

Daenerys could hear the sounds of battle raging down below her. Steel was ringing and men were dying beneath the clouds she knew.

And so she had Drogon descend. Storm's End was the largest castle Daenerys had ever seen, and her forces would not be able to take the castle by force she knew.

Yet, it didn't matter, for she had a dragon. She landed atop the famed drum-tower of Storm's End, and immediately the castle garrison was on their knees, and throwing down their swords.

They do not want to burn, Daenerys noted.

The Unsullied forces who had been assaulting the castle had stopped, while the men at the gates were beginning to lower them to allow them in. Daenerys watched from atop Drogon, until eventually, two men in finer armor than everyone else presented themselves before her.

The man had upon his surcoat two armored knights, one white upon a purple field, the other purple upon a white field, and the other wore a green field bordered in flowers, though she did not know to which houses those sigils belong to. They both knelt before her though, and at that, she began to dismount Drogon.

"Rise sers." She bid when her feet where on the floor. "Tell me your names."

The one on the right with the knights spoke first. "I have the honor of being Ser Gylbert Farring your grace, the Castellan of Storm's End for the nonce."

Then the other took his turn. "I am Lord Elwood Meadows, your grace, the Lord of Grassy Vale and second in command here."

"Storm's End is yours." Ser Gylbert told her.

Drogon began to fly away, likely off to join his brothers wherever they were at the moment, but it didn't matter.

She noted that the gates were open, and Daenerys's men were now coming into the castle. The Dothraki had been set about to take all the lands south of Shipbreaker bay, while Daenerys had set out to take Storm's End with the Unsullied, while the Dornish and Reachers assembled their strength, and the Ironmen continued North.

By the time Daenerys's councillors had arrived, the sun had begun to set already in the distance. She had taken oaths of fealty from each man of the garrison, and only six had refused to bend the knee.

Daenerys had to admire the castle of Storm's End, even if it was the seat of the Usurper. At it's thinnest, facing inwards, the Walls were forty feet thick, and facing the sea they were near double that. Every stone had been carefully placed and in spite of being thousands of years old in the most inhospitable place in Westeros, it still stood with hardly a sign of age.

Her councillors were gathered with her, together in the Lord's Solar. The Queen of Thorns, Mathis Rowan, Euron Greyjoy, Jorah, and Ellaria Sand sat on one side of the table, while on the other were Tyrion Lannister, Varys, Grey Worm, and Missandei.

"Your grace, we have word of victories to the South, the Dothraki are sweeping through Cape Wrath, swiftly taking all of the Rainwood. Houses Swann and Connington have bent the knee to your cause, while everything west of the Ruins of Summerhall have been taken." Varys began. Daenerys still did not trust her Master of Whispers, after he had tried to poison her and her son. He had insisted that he had merely been following orders, however Daenerys still would not hesitate to have him killed should he show a single sign of disloyalty to her.

"Our forces in the Reach are fully assembled, and will be ready to march on King's Landing to end the Usurper's line for all time." Lord Mathis Rowan said.

"Should I march forward to King's Landing then?" Daenerys asked them.

She expected one of Lord Rowan or Varys to speak up, yet instead it was her hand who spoke. "Your grace, we ought to sail further north and take Dragonstone as well. The Lords of the Narrow Sea are like to rally to your banner, certainly more so than Lord Stannis who would have the freeze in the North, and from there we would have a better position with which to launch an assault on the city. Cersei has some limited number of men left to her at this point, but she has no ships."

"There is another matter your grace. Queen Cersei has begun to spread rumors... Rumors that you are the one responsible for the burning of the Great Sept of Baelor, and the death of the High Septon." Her master of whispers told her.

Daenerys struggled to contain her wrath. "And the common people believe it?"

"They do, your grace, and many have taken to naming you an abomination, madder than your father. I'm afraid Westeros will not be as welcoming as we may have hoped."

"Can you spread rumors that it was her who lit the fires?" She asked.

"I'm afraid that ship has sailed. If we say it was Cersei who burnt the Great Sept, people will think it a false effort to blame Cersei for what they already know you to have done." He said.

"Out, all of you." She commanded them, and one by one they all began to file out.

All save Euron Greyjoy. "I told you to leave."

"We had an agreement if I recall. You would wed me upon me delivering you to Westeros. And, it would seem we're here, on Westeros." He said, caressing her breast as he did.

Daenerys had half a mind to slap it away, yet in truth, she was more afraid of Euron than anything else. The things she had witnessed him do as they sailed west had scared her. His lips were stained blue from drinking Shade of the Evening, the drink she had been given before she entered the House of the Undying. He had offered her some as well, though she had declined to drink it.

Yet, she had made a promise to him, and she was a queen, with no other heirs to follow her. She would need to wed, and so it would have to be him.

"Fine my lord," she told him. "We shall wed in three days time."

"Good," he said, before he planted a kiss upon her forehead, then he gave her a mocking bow, and he turned to exit.

She looked over the map that had been laid out over the table. To the North Lord Stannis was battling with the Boltons, and Lord Stannis still had Dragonstone as well. Cersei had the Westerlands, Riverlands and King's Landing, while everything else was hers, though the Dornishmen had not taken kindly to the killers of their Prince and his heir assuming control. Most houses were resisting her, while what few did demanded Daenerys give over the heads of the Sand Snakes and Lady Ellaria so they may face justice.

All the while, the Lords of the Reach all were unpleased with the Lady Olenna assuming control for she was not of House Tyrell and an old woman besides with no ability to bear more children, and each had been in turn putting forth their claims to Highgarden.

And to the North, a host of Lannister men was near King's Landing about to march south against her.

Just then, Daenerys thought she heard someone entering the room. "Tyrion? Missandei?" She called out.

"They are not here." A voice responded to her.

She saw a masked and cloaked figure was in the room with her.

"Quaithe? How can you be here?" Daenerys asked.

"Glass candles are lit once more. You must remember who you are. Remember the way." Said the shadowbinder.

"I am the blood of the dragon." Daenerys said.

Yet, Quaithe was gone then, and she was alone in the room. Could I truly be losing my mind? Daenerys wondered to herself.

She turned and left the solar, and went to the chambers that had been prepared for her. Daenerys began to undress, and laid down.

As she closed her eyes and began to try and sleep, she tried to think of Dragonstone and King's Landing, yet when sleep finally came, all her dreams were of a house with a red door, and a lemon tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author Notes:**  
> And we're back. I've been getting a lot of writing done for my fics, the issue has just been just I need to either finish the chapters I'm working on, or because I haven't been writing the chapters in order I have to sit on those chapters for a bit.  
> I decided last night I just needed to write something for this fic, and I found myself breezing through this chapter. It's a bit short for my liking, but it achieved all my goals and I feel good about the chapter.  
> Remember how I said Yara and Theon are still in the North?  
> Yeah...  
> When the next chapter is coming is unknown for me (I've been putting in a lot of work on the Return of Dragons as of late). This fic is the one I find easiest to write of the three, since this is kinda meant to be like an actual show, so I keep the scenes a bit shorter as though they are from a show, and less like the full chapters of my other fics. However, I still have no clear destination in mind, and just a few not really interconnected ideas that all independently are meant to be better than the show, though they're a little more difficult to piece together.  
> Thank you guys as always for reading and all your comments and kudos and a reminder that all future ones are much appreciated.  
> The day that I own ASOIAF will be the day that D&D don't such as writers.


	6. The Serving Girl

The Serving Girl

Arya was wearing her face. The face of the girl Lady Catelyn Stark brought into the world, the daughter of Lord Eddard Stark.

They did not know her here at the Twins, and being ignored was quite easy when the castle was in chaos.

Six days past she had finally killed Lord Walder, after killing two of his sons as well. She had thought she might invite the Freys back to the castle and live as Lord Walder, but she had realized rather quickly it would not be practical, for she knew nothing of ruling the Twins, nor could she stand to wear the face of the man responsible for the deaths of mother and Robb.

Yet she didn’t need to either she found. After Lord Walder had been found dead, many Freys had been returning to the castle…

And they hated each other she found. No less than four Freys had been outright killed by other Freys since she had been there, while she had herself killed seven more. Eight I should make it by the end of the night, she thought. I am Lann the Clever reborn with teats.

The man who had taken the place of Lord Walder was a man named Ryman, but Arya had poisoned both his sons, and he had spent half his time inconsolable in his grief, while the rest he angrily vowed revenge.

She had killed the Maester as well, and one of the two she killed originally had been the steward she had learned, which had thrown the entire household into chaos. Most the castle was dressed in black in mourning of Lord Walder, as today he had been laid to rest.

They were holding a feast tonight, though it did not seem much different from the others she had seen, little grief was expressed among the castle. In truth, most would not have even cared if Lord Walder had died given his age, and it was only the others who had died as well, and the fact that he had been murdered that troubled them to even return to the Twins.

As she went about pouring wine as they feasted, she noticed one of the weasels was stealing glances at her, and once when he did, she made sure she was looking at him, and blushed in response. He could only have been a year or two older than her, one of the more muscular of Lord Walder’s brood, and one of the only few to be even a little handsome, though still having a weasel like appearance. He had light brown hair, and blue eyes.

Yet her attention was distracted by one of the older and larger men calling for more wine which she attended to. As she poured, she did not fail to note the man staring at her breasts. She thought back to her time at Winterfell, where oft as not she saw the men while eating would oft as not flirt with the serving wenches.

Arya looked back the boy, and saw him staring emptily at the food before him. Oh yes, she thought, I know just what to do with him. She continued to go about pouring wine for those whose cups had been drained, and collected a knife along the way, before she finally noted he had finished his cup, and went over to him.

“Will m’lord be wanting more wine?” She asked him.

“M’lord would be wanting you.” He told her, running his hand along the curve of her hips. Arya looked at it, and began guiding it towards her breast, giggling as she did so, where he let her fondle it a little, until he move to pull it out from her loose dress, at which point she slapped it away.

“Not here, m’lord.” She scolded.

The Frey boy scowled at that. He’s good at that, she allowed. When she finished pouring the wine, she set down the skin she had using on the table. “Surely there is somewhere else we can go.” She said, putting her hand on the inside of his thigh. She wondered if he’d known ever women, if so, she would be the last.

He rose at that. The weasel was nearly a foot taller than her if Arya was to judge, as he began to lead her out of the hall. They were not far from the exit, and he did not seem to be of much importance either, so none took a particular interest in them as they left. Good, I may be able to keep wearing my own face once this is done, she thought to herself.

“Does m’lord have a name that he is called?” She asked him.

“Elmar,” he replied to her as he opened a door, to what she guessed to be his bedchambers. He directed her in, and she caught a glimpse of the room, before she heard the door close behind her, and she turned around. “What are you called?” He asked her, as he began to fumble at the laces of her garb, and within moments it was starting to fall off her.

“Arya.” She replied instinctively, before realizing her mistake, and leaving her unable to grab the knife from her clothes as they fell away revealing her nude body, leaving her to only be to fumble at the laces of his garb.

“Arya…” He echoed, somewhat sadly. “I was to wed a princess once, she was called Arya too, though most like she died in some ditch down in Flea Bottom.”

Oh, Arya thought. Before she could even think to grab the knife though, he was shaking off the last of his clothes, and was lifting her onto the bed, away from the knife concealed within her clothes. No, she thought sadly at her foiled plans, as it was only moments before she found herself on the fur covered featherbed, with Elmar kissing her lips.

She felt his cock enter her, which filled her with a mixture of pain and pleasure, as he began making love to her, thrusting himself into her, while Arya could not resist.

Only when he felt him release within her that he finally stopped, filling her with something warm she felt, as he rolled off of her.

Arya shuddered as he had finished. I ought to cut his throat for that, she thought to herself, he she wondered. He could not have been little more than a boy back then, he must have played no role in Robb and mother dying. And if Lord Walder wasn’t so treacherous she would have been wed to him, yet all the same he had claimed her maidenhead.

She didn’t have much time to think about it though before Elmar took her again, spending himself within her less quickly than he had the first time.

When he was done, rather than laying down, she got up and began to clean herself, while he remained in bed, watching her. Arya blushed a little to feign herself as just another serving girl, before she began to dress herself.

“Where are you going?” He asked her, rising as he did so. His manhood was still wet and dripping she did not fail to note.

“I have duties to perform.” She told him.

“You can do your duties here.” Elmar suggested.

“No I have to leave.” Arya replied, feeling her eyes were starting to water a little.

“Stay with me. You could be my princess. My father is not here to object to such a match, and it would be better than having to become a septon.” He said, grabbing her arm.

Arya grabbed the knife she had hidden in her clothes, and put it to his throat. “No. I am not your princess. I am Arya Stark of Winterfell, the daughter of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn who your father had killed and you will unhand me, or I will cut your throat like I did to father.”

Elmar’s face turned to that of shock and disbelief. “I….” He began to fumble, while he quickly released her hand, though Arya did not remove the knife from his throat.

I ought to just cut his throat and leave it at that, Arya thought to herself, though she couldn’t do it.

“Don’t come looking for me, else I will kill you.” She finally managed, before she lowered the knife, and walked out the door. She wiped away a tear as she closed the door behind her, wondering what she had become.

I’m a Stark of Winterfell, she thought to herself, that was where she belonged. Yet Winterfell belonged to the Boltons from what she had heard, and Sansa was married to Lord Bolton’s bastard who had finished off Stannis in the snow almost a year past.

Sansa needs me, Arya quickly realized. And Jon wouldn’t be so far away either.

Arya found herself wandering the castle of the Twins. She needed to change her face, she knew, else Elmar would recognize her, but with her own face she had found getting around the castle was hardly a challenge.

She began to head towards the Maester’s chambers, deciding she would need Moon Tea to ensure her belly did not grow with Elmar’s bastard.

Once she got to the chambers, she heard the Maester was still speaking to someone. She listened in from outside the door, realizing she would need to sneak in later tonight.

“Winterfell has fallen. Truly?” The Frey asked.

“It has. Lord Stannis took it from the Boltons, it is said, aided by the Young Wolf’s bastard brother. Lord Roose and his bastard are dead, skinned by the bastard’s widow, who fed Lady Walda and her babe to the dogs to secure her own son’s claim to the Dreadfort.” The Maester replied.

Jon has retaken Winterfell, Arya thought to herself, as she turned away from the chambers. Sansa must be there too, she realized. But she would not feed a woman and her babe to her dogs.

“These are grave tidings. Lord Stannis will be continuing south, no doubt, and with the Tullys that the Kingslayer allowed to go North… I must needs get some rest to think on this.”

Arya moved away from the door as the man the Maester was speaking with exited. When he was gone enough, Arya peered through the cracked door. The Maester must also have retired from the night, which left his stores unattended.

She walked in silently, where the letter from Winterfell laid on the table, which she quickly put in her pocket, and snuck out.

The way around the castle had come easily to Arya, and she made her way back to the room she had been sleeping in rather quickly. She began to put on some of her warmer clothes for travel, and packed what little she had been keeping with her.

Most of what she packed was food, with a few clothes. She keep Needle hidden away, still, but what was most important were Robb’s bones, which she had found in the Lord’s chambers, no doubt as a keepsake by the Late Lord Frey.

He belongs in the crypts, she thought angrily. It was a bitter thought, thinking of the brother who would carry her to bed when she misbehaved during dinner, or would go around the castle with her on his back or carry her when she was too tired to walk was now just bones that while heavy, she herself could carry around. When she was done packing, she left her chambers, hardly looking back, and snuck off to the stables, where she found herself a horse. 

She wore the garb of a Frey, so, none stopped her as she walked out, since Freys had been coming and going frequently for days.

Once she found a horse that she would use for her packs, she found another that was already saddled, and began to ride off into the night beneath the full moon, setting forth along the Kingsroad that she had followed south so many years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes:  
> Here is my fic at it's most fixery  
> Jeez the Massacre of the Freys was terrible. Logistically impossible and a huge betrayal of the source material and thematic message of the books and the show to this point as a whole.  
> The first five chapters are being rewritten a little bit, at the moment and keep an eye out over the next few days for those. When next chapter drops (I'm not making any promises as to when), you'll probably want to reread from the very beginning.  
> Happy New Years everyone  
> Thank you guys for all the comments and kudos, and as always new ones are much appreciated.  
> This is a public service announcement: ASOIAF is not owned by LordStark5

**Author's Note:**

> Author Notes
> 
> So basically I decided that I would see if I could possibly rewrite seasons 7 and 8 of Game of Thrones to see if I could salvage them even after they had been preceded by Seasons 5 and 6 which we're exactly all that good. I did make some slight alterations to Season 6 as well, with it being Stannis who saved the day, the Blackfish doesn't pointlessly die, the Smalljon didn't betray the Starks, instead it was Harrion who turned over Rickon and Sansa was actually pregnant with Ramsay's child. And yes, B+A=J in this fic, sue me.
> 
> I left this chapter a little short, since we'll be spending quite a lot of time in Winterfell uninterrupted.
> 
> I've pushed back a few events like Daenerys's landing on Westeros so that I can resolve a few things before the story really takes off.
> 
> I should also not fail to neglect ages with this. Yes, I will adhere to the one year per season rule (though this leaves seasons 3 and 4 feeling extremely stretched), however the characters started with their book ages in this, so Jon is 20 now, Daenerys 19, Sansa is 17, Arya 15, Bran 13, etc;.
> 
> I'm also not bound by the fact that CGI dragons are super expensive, which means you will see a lot more direwolf action, than the measly two scenes we were given in the show (I don't actually know if that's how many scenes there were, and I'm not going to bother with checking either).
> 
> Please comment to let me know what you think, all feedback is welcome.
> 
> I do not own ASOIAF


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